"Join me," I said, a challenge. Why the hell not? I'd gotten my pussy out for him; he could do the same.
But he shook his head.
"Come on," I moaned, my hand moving faster, my skin hot with arousal. "Just looking at the outline of your cock is making me hot. And your fingers are dying to touch it."
His jaw ticked, and then, without a word, he slid his joggers and boxers down his legs, and his thick, hard cock popped out. But he didn't touch himself. It was just there, pointing at me. The sight of him so aroused sent a surge of heat through me.
"God, Derrick, your dick is so beautiful." I moved my right hand faster, letting go of the crotch of my underwear in my left hand so I could shove my top up and fondle my breast, squeezing my nipple.
"Take off your underwear," Derrick said, his voice rough, like it had been raked over gravel.
Excitement rushed down my back at his command, and I slid my underwear down my legs and kicked them off. Then, I settled back and spread my legs. Wide.
"God dammit," he growled, his gaze so fevered that I almost came just from how obviously turned on he was by me.
His cock twitched, pre-cum glistening at its tip.
"Touch yourself," I said and raised an eyebrow. "I won't continue until you do."
Derrick flicked his eyes to my face, debating if I meant it. I took my hands off my pussy and held them up.
He grumbled, then circled his cock with his hand. "God dammit," he groaned.
I slid my fingers back in, and we found a rhythm together, each movement driving me higher, closer to the edge.
"Derrick, I'm close," I moaned, my eyes closing, but I shot them open, needing to watch him stroke his cock. My pussy pulsed thinking of it inside me, pounding me.
His hands were all over his cock, massaging his balls, tugging, stroking, pulling. He was breathing like he was running a race, but his eyes never left my pussy.
"Fuck, Rachel." His hands released his cock for a moment, and he panted, catching his breath as he watched me.
"Why'd you stop?" I asked, my voice high and tight, desperate for him to continue.
"I'm about to fucking explode," he said, and when I glanced at his cock, his balls were so tight they looked like one. His cock so hard the tiny veins were popping out, and cum was dripping out of the tip. "And I'm not coming without you."
That was all it took. I pressed my fingers roughly over my clit, my eyes glued to his beautiful cock, and I screamed, my climax hitting me like a freight train. Derrick immediately started pumping his cock, and he was right. The second he touched himself, he cried out, his orgasm taking over. His hips convulsed as his juice pumped out of his cock and onto the hardwood floor.
We both collapsed backward where we sat, breathless and spent, the air thick with the shared intensity of what we'd just done.
"Wow, Derrick," I said, a satisfied smile on my face. "I needed that."
I hiked up my shorts and underwear and walked to the guest bathroom and washed my hands. My cheeks were pink, sweat glistening in my hairline. I smiled at myself, the exhilaration of what we'd just done running through me, and I twirled out of the bathroom, crashing right into Derrick.
"Oh," I said and took a step back.
He held a glass of water out for me. I gulped it down, then put it on the side table, glancing at the floor where he'd been sitting. He'd already cleaned up the mess he'd made, the bottle of Resolve still on the coffee table. I didn't know why but it hit me hard in the gut. It felt like he wanted to erase what we'd just done.
The high I was on dissipated in a flash, and I turned to Derrick, anger taking its place.
"Can't you ever just enjoy it, Derrick?" I shot at him. "It hasn't even been five minutes, and I can see the regret all over your face."
"I—" He glared at me, confused and startled. "I told you I don't do casual."
"Then you shouldn't have agreed to watch me fuck myself. Geez. I'm tired of you going all sad puppy dog every time we're together."
"I—what?" he growled. "What the fuck did you say?"
"You look like I just killed your dog," I said.